


Blurred memories

by Wordlesslywriting



Series: OiYama Week 2k16 [2]
Category: Death Parade (Anime), Haikyuu!!, 残響のテロル | Zankyou no Terror | Terror in Resonance
Genre: Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Gen, M/M, Parallel Universes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-15
Updated: 2016-04-15
Packaged: 2018-06-02 10:54:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6563398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wordlesslywriting/pseuds/Wordlesslywriting
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For most people life was definitely something that was wondrous and unpredictable. Yamaguchi Tadashi thought the same as he tip toed with flimsy old dreams and contradicting memories.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blurred memories

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired for OiYama Week 2k16 prompts; Day One & Day Six : Surprise/ Crossover

The memories were fuzzy and incoherent the majority of the time; and that was how he grew up. Mingling and tip toeing from visions and dreams clashing his skull. Sometimes they were scary filled with white cold rooms ranging from machines beeping and floods of faces dwindling. Others were fires and buildings crumbling. As he grew older they shifted of lonelier rooms and a screen of a laptop on with a figure hunched over typing. If he got lucky sometimes he felt a smile brush on his lips as he would laugh as he rode on the open highways with a gentle freedom whispering for him to ride faster. It was like he overlapped his new reality with a ghost of a girl’s plea and a boy who was an arch to him frequently when things felt too surreal to handle. His eyes would glaze and the world he thought was a dream would reshape and take hold on his heart. But what also gripped his attention was the colors he only saw consuming his every waking hour. The colors were always fascinating the way they ran through the air mixing together. He could be alone in his room or in a populated classroom, it didn't matter the time or place because he would always see a rainbow in the air. What made it difficult was that sometimes as a child he remembered being painfully distracted when someone’s mouth projecting colors out of them. It wasn't like he told anyone about it; he had a gut feeling that it was something that shouldn't be explored with just anyone. So he kept his mouth shut and watched the colors drag on. Sometimes he made it out a game to predict their personalities when he learned what their voices looked like.

It was a pattern he learned when he associated people with colors. Because it seemed if the color leaned towards dark it usually meant the person was sketchy; the lighter like pastel colors the more energized or humble the people tended to be. At the time when Yamaguchi was still a somewhat loner growing up he used that technique to avoid kids his age. It was system that usually worked, even though that left him with no friends. It wasn't like he hated connecting with the youthful rowdy bunch but, it felt like he was in a different wavelength than the rest of them to get along. Instead he explored his neighborhood and studied whatever caught his interests. Which usually revolved on color, science and strangely enough motorcycles.

The first years of elementary school was in short painful with his insecurities overbearing most of his thoughts. He hated how dark colors blasted through his vision line and how their mouths just kept on smacking and dragging until he couldn't stop watching them mix to a black smoke he could only see. He would leave with tears streaming down his cheeks and hating how black kept on insisting on being created. That was why sometimes Yamaguchi preferred to be in open areas where it was calm and he could lay down and not think about anything in particular. Just silly thoughts like figuring out what his favorite things were like numbers, food, entertainment and color.

It was a funny little debate he always had; since he was surrounded by colors wherever he walked. But if Yamaguchi really had to pick one from all the million shades he’s seen then it had to be a light shade that resembled early mornings.

And that was pale yellow. It was a soft shade that held warmth and comfort. It wasn't the sun itself but something close it. Like the sun glares that phased through the window on an early morning. It was a timid color really like a baby chick breathing for the first time or a lemonade glass on a spring picnic. When he looked at it Yamaguchi always felt like he was swimming inside a pool and feeling a cold smile rushing to his face. Sometimes it felt like he standing on a rooftop with timid voice plaguing him with that soft pale yellow color flying away from the wind pushing his back with a slight pressure. It was just a weird tingling imagery that crossed his mind too many times when he ran across that color. But he couldn't help but think back at that color because even if it caused him a little wheezing during particular dark nights or when he was in the middle of a busy crosswalk the color generally left him in momentary peace. What also caught to be familiar with it was how little he actually saw it mingle with other voices. It was a funny thing he noticed the longer he recorder the colors he saw because, yellow was a tricky rare one. It seemed like mustard yellow was the most common of the spectrum but, pale yellow was the only one he saw in his dreams or art supplies. There were ones that were close but either they were a little darker or they were a light shade of brown. He didn't know how to explain it but, he just knew he never encountered pale yellow without it being from his dreams or physical paint.

Which is why Yamaguchi was speechless when one day he walking back home he saw a small trail of pale yellow. It was beautiful and so timid that he couldn't stop himself running towards the direction. He could of sworn he heard a voice of a girl asking him something about the world as he got closer. His heart felt like it was taking a beating; his lungs squeezed too hard but he kept running until he bumped into that body. The momentum and gravity pushed him closer to the ground but a hand whipped up to grab him and pull him closer. The arm was warm just like that pale yellow he chased for, his eyes locked on to a blonde teenager whose face was shaped into a worrying frenzy as tried to check if he was hurt. Yamaguchi couldn't really concentrate with static screeching his ears and what felt like a bullet piercing his heart.

“Are you okay? Do you want me to help you call your parents? Do live close by?”

A string of questions kept flooding him as he clutched with one hand on his heart and another gripping a sweater he was pretty sure was the stranger’s. He could feel hundred of pair eyes and a flood of colors rushing as other bodies came closer. But what Yamaguchi Tadashi could never forget was how delicate that yellow was within that cluster of colors bleeding together.

When he regained a better frame to coherently think he was back at his room. A glass a water was by his night stand and the windows were still visible with a sun ready to set. His parents were downstairs from the commotion he heard from the living room with a hushed TV on and a stove burning a soup he ate when he was sick. As he stayed on his bed his body felt too heavy but, it didn't really feel too foreign. Night terrors usually did a number to him that it was something he was used to as he got himself comfortable in bed. His lungs still felt sensitive with deep breaths; his eyelids were heavy as well that Yamaguchi opted to sleep again with that pale yellow still fresh on his mind.

It wasn't into a few days later did he learn who brought him home. Apparently he was a third year middle schooler. He didn't catch the whole name but the name associated with the kanji of moon however, what he did gather from his parents said that he was a very nice boy and that Yamaguchi was very lucky to have had his episode so close to home as he brought him over as his mother barely got home. Whether it was fate or luck he meet the younger brother (though he didn't know until later). It was one of those days where he was walking to school when some bullies caught him off guard and piled insult after one another. Their voices however, were overshadowed from a blue voice that closely resembled the edges of ocean meeting land. His lanky figure was enough to intimidate his bullies alone but his snarky attitude and voice helped them run off. Even when he was on his butt with a figure looming over Yamaguchi could help but feel grateful for his actions. When he met again in school when Yamaguchi searched for a sport to join he was kind of thankful he took his chance to play volleyball with his new friend. Because if Yamaguchi was going to be honest he liked how Tsukishima was when it came to snarky people. He was the type that was smart and more confident than Yamaguchi could ever hope to be.

“Tsuki do you want to go to the museum this Saturday ?”

Tsukishima was putting away his volleyball shoes when he answered, “Sure do you mind if my older brother comes along?”

Meeting Tsukishima’s brother was actually a really funny thing. Yamaguchi remembered how he walked over to Tsukishima's home and have Tsukishima's older brother open the door. His eyes immediately widen and his yellow voice gave him away for Yamaguchi when he laughed at the situation while Yamaguchi felt embarrassed.

“Ah so you're Kei’s friend I've been hearing about. I'm assuming you feel better than the last time we've met I hope.”


End file.
